And the greatest of these is love #cancer

Stomach full of nails, knife wounds in my gut. The overwhelming grief that strikes when the one you love most in this world is on his way home, scares me like nothing else on earth. I cannot imagine my existence without him. As death grows stronger, his face grows more pale, his bone marrow no longer works so he has very little in the way of red blood cells and platelets. The constant transfusions stopped on Thursday. 

He fought like hell. He gave everything a shot, but it was not to be. Cancer stalks him like a rabid dog and keeps me awake at night, wondering where it will strike next. Exhaustion is the byproduct of my fear the constant pull of Crohn's disease lets me know I am still alive. 
 
Dennis became a paraplegic when the cancer ate through is vertebra. A surgeon gave us hope, cancer stole it away. His spine is a wonderment of the next generation of surgery but his lungs are filled with cancer and he has trouble breathing. 

Hospice has been helpful, we know about liquid morphine for air hunger and 12 hour morphine for long term pain. We have several different anxiety drugs for fear and terror. There is no fading into the next life for my loved one. He will fight every single day. And that brings me terror. 

At night I count his breathing and the time between each breath. I watch his color like a hawk knowing I can change our minds and call 911, but for what? To do this over again? I can't imagine, but maybe, just maybe it will be different this time?

A strong 218 pound man now lives inside a body that weighs little more than 150 pounds. It happened in about 9 months. We took Dennis home from the hospital on Thursday though I could have my days wrong. I don't even know what day it is and when I need to know, I just ask the kids. 

The days drag as the symptoms wax and wain. One day it is difficulty breathing, the days and times of breathing treatments and comfort care. Then there is the pain which is constant and overwhelming. 

The other day I pondered on the magnificence of human beings. They take pain and agony and wonder what good can come of it. The fact that they wonder is miracle enough. I have cursed God, hated him, and damned him to hell. I told him that no matter what he did to me he could not force me not to believe. Take my husband, my life and I will still love you. I might hate you for a season, but love is always resurrected. 

Love abides...

He has maybe a week or two left, but no one really knows for sure. Miracles happen. Maybe his marrow is in shock and will start to work again. Maybe the fluid in his chest cavity isn't cancer but some freak of nature or a misdirected sip of water. A sympathetic smile is all I can get a physician to manage. 

I am as broken as I will ever be. Yet, I must live on. There are things I have to do. Projects to complete. Grandchildren to watch grow and a life I must live alone.